Truth of Destiny
by Vema
Summary: Just a little backstory on How Things Came To Be This Way in the Shrek universe. PG for now, maybe a little higher later. THIRD CHAPTER NOW UP!! Sorry about the wait.Hope ya'll review some more! ^^
1. An Ogre's Past

Ogre's Past _Author's note: If you find something wrong with this or have any particular problem with it, feel free to leave constructive criticism in the review area. As long as it's reasonable, I won't take offense. ^^_

Truth of Destiny

Part 1: An Ogre's Past 

Shrek sniffed the questionable cuisine that his foster mother had made. "What is this, Mother?" 

"Dinna call me that, ya li'l monster!" 

The plump woman nearly threw a cup at him, and he dropped his head slightly, his ears drooping. "Sorry, Brenna," he said lamely. He slumped in his seat and raised his fork to his lips, trying not to notice the slimy feel of the meat. She always saved the worst parts of the roast for him. "It sure does taste good tonight." 

"'Course it does, ya big, stupid, ugly thing!" She spat it hatefully at him and then turned back to her sewing. 

He quickly downed the rest of the meat, needing the nutrition. He had just as little food as the rest of the children, possibly less, and he was nearly skin and bones. When he was finished, he stood. "I'll just be gettin' back ta the chores then." 

"You'd best have that fire wood done t'night or there'll be no breakfast fer ya in the mornin'!" Brenna said forcefully, not looking up. 

"Yes, M-Brenna." He quickly walked outside and down the hill, squinting against the setting sun. There was so much left to do and so little time. He hefted the somewhat comforting weight of the axe and placed a chunk of wood on the stump before him, pausing a moment to watch it before splitting it easily. He let his mind wander as he worked on the pile of firewood before him. 

The work kept him stronger than anyone else in their little "family", even his foster father, Stratton, at the age of 12. He didn't have to stay, but he had nowhere else to go since his mother had died. Well, even she wasn't his real mother. His real mother had been killed trying to defend their house from an attack from the villagers when he was only three months old, and her friend Aileen had taken him in. Ogres did not live in close quarters to each other as a general rule, and Aileen had had no idea where the next ogre family was. Realizing that she was the only human within miles who didn't persecute them, she'd taken him in and raised him as her own son, until she'd suddenly gotten the sickness that was taking half the town and died when he was eight. 

Brenna had promised at Aileen's deathbed to take care of him, but she had no love of ogres and was a cruel, unfeeling slave driver. The family all shared her opinion of him, with the exception of the oldest daughter, Sorcha, who was only a few months younger than he. Her looks did not resemble her mother's, leading him to believe that she was perhaps from Stratton's first marriage. His first wife had died, but he wasn't sure when. Brenna treated the girl with the same contempt she showed him, only quite a few notches lower on the hatred scale. He split another log and watched the pieces fall away with a tear in his eye. 

Suddenly he felt something hit his back, and he turned to see a group of the younger children standing behind him with a small pile of rocks. Fachtna, age seven, led the group. He hefted a stone in his hand and tossed it up a few times. "Hey, Ogre." 

"Mah name's Shrek," he said testily, turning back to his work. _Let them throw their stones. They can't hurt me._

"You don't deserve a name." 

He ignored them and continued chopping wood. After a few moments, he felt rocks hitting his back, but none of the children were able to get up enough throwing power to actually hurt him, so he ignored it. 

Suddenly, he heard a stern voice calling out. "Stop that! Stop it!" 

He turned around to see Sorcha walking briskly towards them. 

"Why should we?" Fachtna sneered. 

"Because if you don't, I'll tell Mother that you were feeding sweets to the hens again!" 

Fachtna scowled and backed down. "Fine. Stupid ogre-lover." He and the other kids ran off towards the house, giggling at his joke. 

Sorcha watched them leave, then walked over and put a hand on Shrek's shoulder gently. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" 

He could feel his face flushing. "Of course not, Sorcha. The likes o' them could never injure a brute like myself," he said teasingly, a note of sorrow and anger leaking out against his will. 

"I suppose I should have realized that, Shrek. But I just don't like it that they're so unfeeling towards you." She dropped her hand and looked up the hill to the house they all shared. "You could leave, you know. I have to stay, but you could leave." 

"I've nowhere ta go, Sorcha. I'll be stayin' here." 

"…Just…don't stay for me, okay?" 

He frowned down at her. "What do ya mean?" 

"I mean that if you want to leave, you should. I can take care of myself, you know." 

He nodded and turned back to his work. "Ya'd best be gettin' back to the house before Brenna comes lookin' fer ya." 

Sorcha nodded, walking back up the hill. She paused halfway up and turned to watch him again as he worked, then sighed and continued up to the house. 

****************

After half a night of tossing and turning on this cot in the barn, for that was the only place where there was room for him, Shrek stood and decided to get about doing some of the work he would need to do in the morning. No use in just laying there when he couldn't sleep anyway. He was halfway done hoeing the field when he heard raised voices coming from the house, and he quickly ran over to investigate. 

He sat below the window, listening to the now softened sounds of Brenna and Stratton arguing. 

"He'd be better off on 'is own anyway, Brenna. All 'e gets here is jeers and jibes." 

"I'll not be goin' back on my promise to Aileen, Stratton! I'm ta look after …the ogre…until he's fit to look after 'imself." 

"An' when will that be?" Stratton said testily, his voice rising again. "He's already taken over most o' my jobs, an' the rest o' the children hardly 'ave ta work at all. Ya dinna think that possibly havin' Shrek do most o' the chores 'round here is a bad idea?" 

"No, an' I dinna see why ye would either." 

There was silence for a few moments after that, and Shrek wondered if the discussion was over. Finally, Stratton's voice was audible again, though labored and tired sounding. "Ya jus' want 'im here so you can hurt 'im." Silence reigned again while Brenna took in what he said. 

"That is simply not true, Stratton, an' you know it!" came a cry, followed by the shattering of some thrown object. "How _dare_ ye accuse me o' such a vile thing!" 

"Because it's the truth!" he shouted back. "Ye've never forgiven 'im fer bein' who he is, and ye never will! He can't help it, Brenna. He didn't ask ta be an ogre, he didn't ask ta have 'is both 'is mothers killed, and 'e certainly didn't ask fer you ta hate 'im!" 

"And what are you suggestin', Stratton?" 

"That you treat the boy with a little more tolerance." 

"Why? He's jus' a big, stupid ogre. He prolly doesn't even know I'm treatin' 'm any different than the other kids." 

"Fine. I'm goin' out fer a while." 

Hearing this, Shrek scrambled to stand, wiping his face quickly, but he wasn't fast enough to make himself scarce by the time Stratton had exited the house. He tried to dry his face of the tears he'd been unable to stop, looking hurt and confused anyway. 

Stratton glanced over at Shrek and lit a pipe while he was composing himself, then motioned for the young ogre to follow him away from the house. A little ways away from the house, Stratton turned around. "So, ya heard all that, did ya?" 

Shrek nodded miserably, staring at the ground. 

"Ya know I'm right, Shrek. It's time fer ye ta strike out on yer own. We're only hindering ye." He puffed on his pipe. "I've never condoned the way Brenna treated ya, Shrek, but she's right on one account. Ye'll never fit in here." 

He nodded again, his ears drooping even more. 

"I can give ye a little money and some tools, and a'course ye can take all the clothing ya use now. Brenna isn't goin' ta like this, but it has ta be done." 

"…I'll leave tomorrow…" 

Stratton nodded and wandered back towards the house, leaving Shrek to himself. 

***************

"Sorcha!" 

She mumbled something and rolled over in her cot, white moonlight dimly outlining her form. 

"…Sorcha, wake up!" 

She sat up and looked around the dark room, trying to find the soft voice. "…Shrek? Is that you?" 

"Aye!" 

Trying to stay quiet, Sorcha made her way to the window, where she saw the ogre standing with a pack over his back, his eyes wide. "What do you need at this hour, Shrek?" she whispered gently, "Brenna would have you flogged if she knew you were here." 

"I'm leavin'." 

As soon as he said it, it seemed like everything stopped, even her own pulse. "…Leaving?" 

"Brenna doesn't want me, nor do any o' yer siblings. Stratton thinks it best if I go." He stared into her eyes for a moment. "Would ye come with me if I asked ye?" 

"Oh…Shrek. I- I can't." 

"Yes ya can." He reached up and took her hand, surprised anew at the difference of size. "We'd be out of the province before any o' them even notice we're gone." 

"Shrek, we- we're only children. You can't take care of the both of us. You go. I'll stay here." 

"I'm not leavin' without ya, Sorcha." 

"You have to." She withdrew her hands and made her voice as biting as she could. "Why would I want to run away with a big, ugly ogre like you?" 

Shrek jerked back slightly, confused. "But-but ya said-" 

"I know what I said, Shrek, now get out of here. I never want to see you again!" 

He looked stricken. "…Sorcha…ya can't mean that…" 

"I do! Leave!" 

Their voices had risen in volume and intensity and now there was a group of children gathered behind Sorcha, adding their voices to her request. 

Shrek examined them all incredulously, his ears drooping in disbelief and sorrow, before he turned and ran. He wasn't sure where he was running to; he didn't have a plan or any idea of what to do. But he did know that he didn't want to stay there. And he knew that it hurt. 

After a while he paused in his running and stopped before a large tree, sobs wracking his body. After his breathing was back to normal, he looked around, trying to orient himself. 

For all of his running, he couldn't tell which direction he'd come. It was nearly dawn. He'd need somewhere to take shelter during the day so the nearby villagers wouldn't see him, but he had no idea where such shelter could be found. 

"Over here!" called a soft, female voice. 

His head shot in the direction of the voice, and he saw a figure running behind a tree. He quickly followed the figure. "Hey, wait!" 

"Shh…follow me!" it said again, seeming to come from all around him now. He could see the white clad form running in front of him, and he followed it until he entered some sort of a clearing. The figure and the voice were gone now. He searched for another flash of white, but saw none. Stepping, he heard a squishing noise. 

Shrek picked up his foot and looked at it with some disgust and then looked at the clearing again. Most of it was wet and green, and a huge, tree sat in the center. It appeared to be dead, hollow. It was… 

"…Perfect…" He ran forward and rapped on the tree with his fist, hearing an echoing inside. "Just perfect." He gripped a nearby log and used it to cave in a small area so he could walk in. Looking around, he saw that there was plenty of room for everything he needed. It would take a lot of work, but it could be done. And no one would ever bother him again. 

Thoughts such as that reminded him on Sorcha, and he quietly hoped that the ache it left in his heart would leave. But he knew that it would be a long time before he could forget. 

*****************

Sorcha looked out into the night after the smaller children had been ushered back to bed. A tear coursed down her cheek unheeded. _I'm so sorry, Shrek…_ She hadn't meant it, any of it. But he had to go away, somewhere where he wouldn't be pushed down. He had to be able to become whatever he could, and that would never have happened there. 

She quietly got back into bed and prayed to be forgiven for what she had just done. 

End Part One


	2. Alone

Part 2: Alone

Shrek patted the spout he'd just installed near his house, smiling to himself. It was the last of the renovations he planned to put on his new swamp house. _Finally. Now I'll never have to see anyone ever again._ The thought pleased him even as he hated it. Every time he saw people, they made him feel like a freak, a monster, and now he wouldn't have to see anyone, ever. He'd never have to feel like a beast again. 

At the same time…he was lonely. He missed his mother, and his second mother, Aileen…and…and Sorcha. 

Shrek hated her, but he missed her. He hated what she'd said, hated how she'd humiliated him, hated how she'd forsaken him. Hated that he'd loved her. 

It hadn't been a mature love, obviously. Just the love heartbroken little boys have for anyone who is nice to them, anyone who shows them a little compassion, but it could have been something more. Maybe it should have been something more. Of course, it wasn't, and there was no use dwelling on what couldn't be. 

A few minutes later, he was trying unsuccessfully to light a fire when the cauldron he hung over it fell. He grumbled and looked at it in disdain, rubbing his head where the cast iron had struck him. Examining it after a moment, he found that it needed a new handle. 

He cursed under his breath and stood, rummaging around to find what little coins he had left. It was hard to build up money, especially when no one wanted anything to do with you, but all the outland farmers seemed to care about was that he could work hard. He'd gotten just enough to finish his house and buy supplies until he could start growing and making his own. Quietly cursing his luck, he gathered a few coins and stormed out to town. 

****************

Shrek felt his face droop as the first of the villagers spotted him. It was a teenage girl, perhaps a year or two younger than he. She stared at him in horror for a moment, nearly dropping the basket of potatoes that she held, and then took off towards the house, completely silent. Her skirts billowed behind her as she ran, her hair trailing through the air like a ribbon of fire warning him to come no closer. It was not a new sight to him, though he'd never seen the girl before. 

Everyone ran from him. 

He saw that most people were simply gathering their things and going inside quietly, trying not to draw attention to themselves. The usual group of boys that threw rocks was congregating near the end of the main street, giggling madly about what fun it was to torment him. He ignored them and strode quickly towards a nearby store. 

Entering, he saw the owner was concentrating on something and had not seen him. The bells on the entrance jangled, signaling that he had a customer. 

"Good evening, sir, how ma- Oh. Oh my." 

"An' an 'oh my' righ' back at ye," he said, smiling sadly. "Look, I jus' need a cauldron handle, an' I'll be on mah way." 

"A…a cauldron handle? Yes, of course. Of course. They're right over there." He pointed a shaking finger behind Shrek, who turned and saw that there were indeed many cauldron handles. He bought the first one he could, figuring that if it was too long, he could easily bend it. 

Starting back outside, he saw that the group of boys had been disbanded by their parents. He walked back in the direction he had come from, trying not to notice the eyes that watched him from darkened windows. 

There was a flash and a thud in front of him, and he looked down to see a little girl. She had fallen while running, and now she sat dumbfoundedly before him on the dusty ground. 

He reached down and picked her up, righting her. "Are ye all righ' there, Lass?" 

She smiled slightly. "I'm fine, sir. Thank you very much." 

"You be a li'l more careful next time, all right'?" 

"Yes sir, I-" 

"Echna!!" 

The two of them looked up, and saw a woman running towards them. "Don't talk to strangers, girl!" She swung the child up into her arms and, with a look of fear into Shrek's face, quickly walked away. 

He looked down and continued to walk out of the town, cauldron handle in hand. Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by the men of the village, all bearing some weapon ranging anywhere from a sword to a hoe or shovel. He looked around at them in confusion. "Can I help ye?" 

"Look, Ogre, we don't want you in our town." 

He scowled, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. "That's fine by me, 'cause I won't be comin' back!" 

"That's what you said last time, and now look! You came back, didn't you?" One of the men near him reached out and put a sword to his throat. "We aim to make it so you can never come back again!!" 

"Now look here, I'm not hurtin' anythin', and I jus' needed ta grab this handle." He tried to not let his fear show. He may have been able to take care of a few of the villagers, but this many would almost certainly overpower him, especially since he was only an adolescent ogre. "I'll just be on my way home, and I won't come back." 

"I don't think so." 

Shrek reached out and knocked over the man who was holding a sword to his neck and backed quickly away, wondering silently how in the world he was going to get out of this. 

Suddenly there was a woman in a black cloak in front of him, facing the advancing crowd of men. Shrek, looking confused, stared at her, as did the men. 

"Get out of the way, woman," shouted the leader, gesturing with his torch. 

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked quietly, her face devoid of emotion. 

"Taking care of a problem that should have been dealt with years ago!" a short man in the back yelled. This sentiment was backed up by shouts of agreement from others. 

"I don't think you really want to hurt Shrek, do you?" Her soft, low voice floated out over the group like a wave of calm, and some of them actually dropped their weapons. There was a musicality to it that seemed to make everything slow down. "He's done nothing to you," she continued, "and now he's leaving. In fact, it's a waste of your valuable time to detain him any longer. Why don't you all just return to your houses and eat a well-deserved dinner? You have had a long day, I assume. Just enjoy the evening and don't worry about anything." 

There was a murmur of assent, and the group moved away as one, those who had dropped their weapons simply leaving them there. Shrek found himself almost going with them before he realized what he was doing. _That must have been a… an enchantment…_

Shrek stared after them for a moment, disbelieving, then turned to confront the woman who had saved him, but she was gone. He looked frantically around, and saw something white flashing near the trees, but nothing else. 

He quickly hurried out of town and to the swamp before the harassers changed their mind. 

***************

Shrek quietly sat down at his dinner table, looking over all his food one more time. It was a nightly ritual that he'd begun when he'd first moved to the swamp. After having less than all the other children at his foster parents, he'd come to appreciate food differently than most. His new state of having plenty was different from the old, and he tended to overeat on a constant basis, causing him to gain weight substantially. He really didn't care. It wasn't like anyone would be around to see him anyway. 

He finished and stared into the fire for a few moments. It was times like these, quiet times when he had nothing else to do, that he missed his old life the most. Certainly he'd been unhappy, but he'd never been as lonely as he was now. He laid his head down on the table, feeling one tear slide down his nose and softly plop onto the wood. Things would be better eventually. They had to be. 

He didn't notice the flash of light outside his window. 

End Part 2

_Author's note: So, what do you think? This isn't the end, there's more coming. Aren't you all wondering about Fiona? *evil laughter* Anyway, to be continued. ^^ _


	3. Unwanted

Part 3: Unwanted

A girl around the age of six or seven crouched near the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Her red hair fell around her green-tinged face, framing her shining blue eyes as she smiled down at the golden fish in the pond. She touched the surface of the water with a pudgy finger and laughed as the fish bolted, afraid of whatever was disturbing their environment. 

"Fiona!" came a man's voice. 

The girl looked up. "Coming!" 

She quickly ran through the open area and into the castle surrounding it, then up some stairs until she saw a tall man. "Papa!" she cried, running towards him. 

He opened his arms and swung her up, growling as he playful bit her stomach. Fiona squealed in delight, squeaking out, "No, Papa, not the tummy!" 

He quickly braced her on his hip and hugged her. "And what has my favorite little princess been up to this morning?" 

"I fed the fishies today!" she said proudly. "One of them was this big!" She stretched her arms as far as they could go, not aware of her exaggeration. 

"Was he now?" He smiled kindly as the small, green child in his arms went on about her exciting encounters with the aquatic creatures, and when she was finished, he said, "I bet your mother could use some help in her study, Fiona. Why don't you go see?" 

"Okay!" She hopped down and sped off down the hall again. 

Fiona's father watched her leave, smiling fondly. Another man came out of the shadows as he watched. "Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly to soften the slight sarcastic tone to his voice. 

"Ah, Tearlach. When did you return, brother?" 

"Moments ago, Fionnlugh. I'm afraid that King Siollan sends his regrets that his son is already betrothed." 

"I see. To…?" 

"Well, that little bit of information seemed to change as the conversation went on. First it was the Princess Laoise, then it was Onchu's daughter. Personally, I don't believe a word of it." 

"I suppose we'll just have to be polite and not point out his fabrication." He sighed and looked down. "I just don't understand it. That's nearly fifteen attempts, and no one is taking." 

"Fionnlugh, I've told you before that the reason 'no one is taking' is because of the girl's heritage. You'd be well advised to send her and her mother off to another side of the country and let them live as peasants." 

"Hold your tongue! That's my family you're talking about." 

"Family or not, I warned you not to take Uaine as your wife." Tearlach turned and began walking towards his brother's office. "Wasn't it I who said she would never gain acceptance? Didn't I warn you that you'd never be able to marry off your children?" 

"That's enough, Tearlach!" Fionnlugh yelled, shutting his door. "It will not do to have the servants hearing you speaking this way! Uaine is a beautiful woman and Fiona is our daughter. I love them both very much, and I will not send them away!" 

"Suit yourself, brother. But remember that it might be easier on us all if they were to leave here." He strode off purposefully, leaving the young king to his thoughts. 

****************

Fiona ran into a room a few hallways away from where she had found her father, bouncing happily up to see the large verdant woman who occupied the one desk and chair set inside. "Mama, Papa said you might need some help." 

"Oh, did he?" She turned and patted the small girl affectionately. "Well, I could certainly use someone to stamp these envelopes. Do you remember how to from last time, dear?" 

"Of course, Mama!" Looking overly offended, Fiona grabbed the proffered envelopes, wax, and metal stamp. 

"I was just asking, dear. Now you go sit right there and make me proud." She patted her over to the coffee table and then continued to carefully write out letters. 

After a few moments, Fiona stopped her worked and looked forlornly at the envelopes. She then stood and went to her mother, tugging her sleeve. 

"What is it dear?" Uaine said, looking up. 

"That's boring. I want to do something else." 

"I'm afraid that's all I have for you to do, Fiona." 

"Aw." She made a face and then returned to her work. 

Uaine looked up from her manuscripts to watch her daughter working. She was so innocent now, completely ignorant of the controversy that she was causing across the countryside. How long would that last? Perhaps it would be simpler if the two of them lived in some distant village, receiving a few visits from the king a year. It was true that their claim to Fionnlugh outlasted any others. He had decided at the age of 14 that he loved her more than he loved any other girl he knew, and he had told her so. It was only after he was assured his ascendance to the throne that he had informed the rest of his family of his decision. And so, she had entered the royal family at the tender age of 17, the subject of much ridicule. Eventually she had made enough good impressions on Fionnlugh's relatives that the slander was limited to the townspeople. 

Now, however, she wondered if she should have stayed. The thought of Fiona having to marry into another royal family and go through the hardships she had herself had been forced to endure was not a happy one. Perhaps it would be better to betroth her to a distant cousin who was also an ogre. 

Before she could explore that possibility further, Fionnlugh entered, striding over to her and embracing her warmly. "How are you today, sweetheart?" 

"Confused, Fionn." 

"As am I. Tearlach informs me that Siollan's son is already betrothed to an as of yet unnamed princess." 

Uaine stood, her lips pursed. "Fiona, dear," she said quietly, "Wouldn't you like to go play in the gardens?" 

"Not really, Mama." 

"I think you would." 

"No, I'm fine." 

"Really, Fiona, I think it's time for you to go outside for a while." 

"I… All right, then." She gave her mother a strange look and put down her stamping supplies before walking out of the room. 

"What are we going to do, Fionnlugh?" She sat back down, putting her head in her hands. "She has to marry someone." 

"I know that." He pulled the coffee table over and sat on in, placing his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. "We'll find someone." 

"Fionn…maybe it'd be better for Fiona if we…well, there are plenty of perfectly respectable ogre peasants out there." 

"I won't hear of it." 

"Surely you'll listen to reason, dearest." She took her hands down and looked at him incredulously. "No one wants an ogre in the family line." 

"If I do, there has to be some people out there who are equally amenable. We just need to find them." He smiled wanly, lines visible on his face. 

"I don't want Fiona to run away from what she is to please some high-born rich brat!" Uaine said loudly, her eyes narrowing. "She is special. Just because she doesn't look like a human doesn't mean she's any less a person than one." 

"I'm sure Fiona won't allow that to happen," he said confidently. 

Suddenly, a bright light filled the room and both were momentarily stunned. It filled the entire room, lasting perhaps half a second. Uaine shook her head. "Did you see that?" 

"No. What were we talking about again?" 

"Fiona." 

"Ah, yes. I… I think I have an idea, actually." 

… To Be Continued.

_What do you think? Leave a review or email me. Part four is coming soon, hopefully._


	4. Isolation

_Author's note: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story. I've been without the internet for a VERY long time. I'm going to try and get it finished within the next few months. Please do review - I have a feeling my author's voice has changed a bit. Enjoy._

Part 4: Isolation

Fionnlugh looked about the highest room of the tallest tower. He had commissioned this castle, in the middle of a volcano, after inspiration had suddenly struck him. He had put a few bits of furniture in the room, a dresser, a bed, a nightstand, a bookshelf. His daughter wouldn't be able to leave for quite some time. He brought his senses back to the present. "Uaine, dear, are you all right?"

His wife was frantically folding clothes. The top drawer of the dresser had been filled with attire that would fit her now, and each drawer down was filled with slightly larger ones. They would not be able to give Fiona anything else until the dragon was slain. Uaine was down to the last few garments, kneeling before the bottom drawer, and her tears were now fairly obvious to everyone in the room. "I'm fine, just fine," she said shakily. She picked up a green velvet dress and gently shook it out, but her quivering fingers couldn't hold on and it fell to the floor.

Uaine fell as well and sobbed once, and Fionn came forward to pick up the dress, handing it to her. "It's all right, Uaine, the dress is fine. Look." He held it out to her.

"Oh, I'm not upset about the dress, Fionn!" she exclaimed, wiping her eyes angrily. "We're not going to see our daughter again for several years. We may even never see her again! How can you not be upset?"

An abiding faith that we're doing the right thing," he said. He kissed her cheek and wiped her tears from her eyes with his thumb. "Trust me, dearest."

Standing, he walked over the to the cloaked figure in the corner. She was still, eerily so, her face hidden by the darkness of her hood. "Where will the food appear?"

She pointed to the table by the bed, her voice soothing yet powerful. "Three times a day, my lord, just as you asked."

"And if she is ever in danger, you will know and alert me?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." She bowed slightly.

"Lovely." He turned and surveyed the room. "Everything looks to be in order, then. Come, let us say goodbye to Fiona."

Uaine stood and looked at the floor, composing herself. The cloaked woman waved her hand slightly, and Uaine suddenly became much more herself, her tears nearly evaporating from her skin. "Of course," she said, and together they walked out.

Fiona was waiting at the bottom of the tower, and she looked up expectantly when her parents exited. She had matured much in the two years since her father had commissioned this project. She was worried about how she would get on by herself in a single room for the rest of her adolescence, and yet she trusted her parents. They would only do what was for her highest good.

Uaine took her hand. "Your room is all ready, Fiona. Would you like to see it?"

"Yes."

They led her up the stairs, and her first impression of the room was that it was terribly small. She supposed it wasn't any smaller than her room at her parents castle, but it was the only place she would be for a long time. "All your favorite books are here, Fiona," said her father, "and paper and pens in the nightstand."

"And Cassandra will be able to send you anything you need while you are here," Uaine added. She embraced her daughter. "We'll miss you."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too." Uaine released her and smiled. "It won't seem like so long a time, darling."

""I love you, Fiona," said Fionn, also hugging her. "We'll send you letters and keep your room just the way it is now."

She nodded, a lump growing in her throat. She wasn't sure she could do this…

Fiona stared at the canopy above her bed, unable to sleep. It was always hard for her to get to sleep in a new place. She wondered if her parents were missing her yet. She was missing them. She was missing everyone.

She suddenly realized that the woman named Cassandra was standing next to her bed. "Hello!" she exclaimed, happy to see anyone.

Cassandra raised her arms high, and an eerie glow surrounded Fiona. "By night one way, by day another…this shall be the norm…"

Fiona's eyes widened and she cried out, feeling her body change. "Stop! STOP!" she yelled, staring at Cassandra in terror.

"…Until you find true love's first kiss. Then take love's true form."

As soon as she'd said the final words, she was gone, leaving Fiona in the room alone. She picked up her bedside mirror and stared into it, aghast at what she saw.

It was easier to get to sleep once she'd exhausted herself with crying.

_--To be Continued…_


End file.
